


Nikola Tesla On Light And Its Consequences

by roguelightning



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguelightning/pseuds/roguelightning
Summary: Nikola Tesla's museum in Belgrade is heaven on Earth for all his fans. But deep down in its basement, there is an essay he wrote. To most people, it's just the ramblings of an old man on his deathbed.
Relationships: Helen Magnus/Nikola Tesla
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	Nikola Tesla On Light And Its Consequences

She was  _ not _ being nostalgic, she protested to herself as she stepped inside the museum. She had visited it decades before, around the 1960s- well, her first 1960s, but that seemed like a century ago. It was, if she did the math, actually. Of course, that had also been before she had come to the conclusion that she missed him the most of all people. She didn’t yet dare to think about the reasons this happened.

Of course, none of the people that were inside the museum knew who she was. She took a glance at them, trying to guess what had brought them here. They were mostly young people, and that put a smile on her face. She supposed he would have liked knowing people finding out about him like this, especially given the fact that the museum was basically heaven on Earth for a fan. (Which she was not, thank you very much.)  __

She watched them gather around the coil in the middle of the room as the guide gave each of them neon lights to hold. He was young, not exactly in his 30s yet, and the way he caught the public’s attention wasn’t even close to what Nikola had been able to do. Still, she couldn’t help a smile as he turned the coil on and all the neon lights in the room lighted up instantaneously, despite no wires connecting them to the source of electricity.

The guide then asked for a volunteer to come close and touch the arc of electricity from the coil, and it took all her will not to offer for this. It wasn’t fair, she decided. Not when Nikola had been the first one who had done this to her. She still recalled how he invited her over to his laboratory back in the day, eyes gleaming with pride as he asked her to hold her hand over the arc. The sensation of electricity on her skin hadn’t hurt at all, to her surprise, but her skin had tingled nevertheless. Then again, that had been more an effect of him staying impossibly close to her at the time than anything else. She knew that now. Wisdom that came with age, she supposed. That or loneliness. She hadn’t decided yet.

After the experiment ended, people scattered around the museum and she did the same, her steps leading her to the glass case one of his suits was presented in. A smile found its way to her lips as she noticed the cane the mannequin was holding. Nikola had never needed that, of course, not really, but he had still insisted to wear it. Something about making him look classy, if she recalled correctly. She supposed it did the job for the purpose of looking like an old man. It had been a necessity at the time, since he had to get out in public, and she remembered getting him inside that very suit a few times. And out of it one time, but she really couldn’t afford getting there.

“Is it true that he was never married?” a girl asked, interrupting her thoughts. 

“Never married, never in love with anyone except for a dove,” the guide replied with a grin. “Well, that’s how the story goes, actually. Of course, there was also Katherine Underwood Johnson” - Helen had to hold a snort at that - ”and there is also that thing he wrote about light which some people consider some sort of a love letter.”

“What thing?” Helen blurted out. She had no idea what the guide was talking about.

“Oh, just some sort of an essay that the feds found in his hotel room after he died,” he said dismissively. “It’s not on display anymore, however.”

“Why not?”

“I have no idea, actually,” the guide shrugged. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I will show you the telecommand unit Tesla designed,” he said and the people followed him. Helen did too, not without glaring a bit at him. She wasn’t going to leave it at that, she decided.

As soon as all the people left the museum, she practically ran after the guide, catching his hand before he disappeared in the back room.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said, putting on her best smile. “Now that we’re alone, that is,” she added, not missing the way the guy’s breath hitched at that.

“O-of course,” he stammered.

“Why is that essay really not on display anymore?”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” the guide asked with a laugh. “What, I know that look,” he grinned. “I’ve seen things during my time here, you know. Most people are here for fun, but every now and then there are people who think there is more to Tesla than it’s widely known. I’ve heard every theory possible, from him being involved in time travel to him being a vampire-” Helen really hoped he didn’t catch the way her breath hitched at that - “but I’m sorry to disappoint, he was just an inventor.”

“He was one of the greatest minds of the last century,” Helen protested.

“Yes, but you know. Just a man, nothing supernatural about him.”

“Not saying otherwise,” Helen smiled. “But I do have a feeling that there is more to that essay, and I bet a smart man like you knows exactly the story behind it.”

“Well, as a matter of fact…” the man grinned. “Thing is, I read it. It’s… weird, actually. Not that this is surprising, I mean the guy thought he could talk to aliens, so it’s not something you wouldn’t expect of him, but it talks about light and bloodied chapels, whatever that is about, and-”

“Bloodied chapels?”

“I know, it doesn’t make any sense to me either,” the guide shrugged. “But he did write it before he died, so I always assumed it has a religious vibe to it.”

“That sounds interesting,” Helen said, her eyes glittering at that. “I suppose I would get you into too much trouble if you showed it to me,” she added with a pout. “But I can promise you it will be worth it,” she said as her fingers found his tie and played with it a bit. 

“A whole lot of trouble, yes. It’s in the basement and that’s reserved for staff members, so I’m afraid-”

“Too bad,” Helen sighed. “You didn’t strike me as the kind of man who played by the rules.” She batted her eyelashes at him, watching the way determination found the way to his eyes.

“I don’t!” he protested, and the smile she threw him at that could have probably melted an iceberg.

“That’s what I thought,” she smirked. “I won’t tell anyone what we do in the basement if you don’t,” she promised. It was those words that sold the deal, and she almost felt sorry for the guy. He was almost Will’s age, come to think of it, which made her taking advantage of him a bit wrong. Still, she supposed the end justified the means.

“Come back after the museum closes and I’ll see what I can do,” the man said with a wink.

Later that evening, she knocked almost shily at the door and the guide got her back in, closing the door behind her.

“I turned off the power,” he said with a grin as he handed her a flashlight. “I’ll just say it was a power cut. I had to do it, you know. To get rid of the cameras.”

“That’s smart thinking,” she said with a smile and he practically beamed at her words. He led her to the basement, guiding her to a case which had a single page in it.

“There it is,” he said with a smile. “I hope you don’t want to touch it, because that will really get me into trouble, but-”

“I just want to read it” she promised as she got closer to the case and began reading.

_ Light is both wave and particle. But light is so much more than both of these. Light can defy obtuse people, laughing in their face when they ask her to submit to their will. Light will tremble under your touch as the blood of your ancestors mixes up with hers, her touch lingering on you for days after your hands touched.  _

_ Light can enter bloodied chapels and take in all the violence that is inside them. She can become almost snuffed out by it, but somehow she will overcome everything and emerge out of it more powerful than ever before. Of course, she’ll become cold, afraid somehow to get involved again, but she will find a way to make her life work again.  _

_ Light will then mix up with DNA, try to find some peace in her life, but she was never meant for peace. Nor for boredom, if we are to be honest. She will not take any credit for the DNA part, of course, but I suppose I’m the last person in the Universe who has the right to talk about not taking credit for your work. _

_ I only know one man who has come into contact with light and has not let her affect him. She went right through him, in all senses of the word, actually, so his… condition is nothing but fitting. He is probably the happiest of us. I don’t want to be that man, however. Peace and quiet was never something I wanted, and it was never something light wanted. _

_ And now, light will kill me. I asked her to do that, actually, and she accepted. It’s not the first time she kills me and it’s the most boring way she will do it in this time, to be honest. But of course she accepted. Because light shines down on everyone who needs her. She touches people, heals them in ways that can’t be always put into words, and then disappears. I’ll never have her, not the way I want her. People didn’t appreciate what I gave to them and for some reason I am the one who has to atone for that, the one who is damned to live in the darkness for decades because of it. I won’t be seeing light for a while now, but I am fine with that. At least, I try to be. Because if there is a thing that light gave me, it’s time. Time that gives me hope that I’ll reach her eventually, even if I have to spend my life climbing to her. But for that to happen, I have to die first. I can only hope that light will taste much sweeter after years of darkness. That is a theory I still have to prove, actually.  _

When she finished reading, she turned to the guide, an unreadable expression on her face. 

“I told you it’s confusing,” the guide shrugged. “If you wanna hear something funny, the FBI thought that this was some sort of encrypted plan for building a death ray for a while.”

“And this is the real reason why it’s not on display, I assume,” Helen smiled.

“Yes.”

“Thank you for this,” she whispered. Tears were pricking her eyes, but she did her best to ignore them. She closed the distance between them, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” she warned him before turning away.

“I- I won’t,” he promised. “What did you say your name was?”

“It’s Helen. It means  _ light _ in Greek.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Teslen Appreciation Week 2020. Day one- Teslen throughout history.


End file.
